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I used to love growing orchids, watching them come back into bloom season after season, in spite of being under-watered and under-fertilized. That’s right – I’m not a good orchid mom. My 36 plants are under lights in the basement, and sometimes I can almost hear them screaming out for water. I feel guilty about the half-assed care they get during the winter. All summer long, they’re out on the deck, getting watered pretty much every day and fertilized now and then. And until a few years ago, I used to be diligent about their care while in the basement. But I lost my enthusiasm a few summers ago, when the plants came back into the house in October with an entomologist’s dream assortment of bugs.

First, of course, there were tons of spiders of all types and sizes (and I don’t like spiders). I even brought a few huge orb weavers in. Then the phalaenopsis orchids were full of mealy bugs, which I can’t stand, because they’re very difficult to get rid of without strong chemicals. Next came the aphids on about half of the orchids (not on the phals). And this year, we have a new problem – scale insects. And they do like the phalaenopsis.

Well, the other night, I decided to water the orchids. It had been over a week since I’d watered them. One pot was so incredibly heavy every time I carried it to the sink for water that I dreaded picking it up. I knew that the pot itself was too deep and too thick, which made it heavy. But I also suspected that the orchid bark had long ago broken down into rich compost. (Yes, it had been years since I’d repotted that plant. I already told you I’m an orchid abuser!)

Anyway, I couldn’t take its suffering any longer, so I decided – at 1:30 AM to repot that orchid before watering the rest of them. I was tired, and I just wanted to get the orchid out of the pot to see what was going on. And what a mess it was. The roots were just sitting on top of old orchid bark that had almost completely broken down. I had to either use most of my supply of new bark to fill that big pot or find something to take up space in the bottom of it.

Since I’d bought orchids that had those styrofoam packing “popcorns” at the bottom of the pots, I figured I’d take some out of the boxes I’d received in the mail and use them to fill up that too-deep pot. And I thought I was SO clever! I covered the popcorns with orchid bark, buried the roots and watered the plant. To my amazement, when I lifted the pot out of the sink, there was all this white goo floating around the drain. For an instant, I was puzzled . . . and disgusted at the sight of it. But within seconds, I realized that I’d used those environmentally-friendly popcorn things, and they disintegrate when wet.

So now my plant is slowly sinking in the pot, as the white slime slips out the bottom, into the saucer. And I have to repot the damned thing again, only the right way this time. Anyone want some buggy orchids?

I’ve wanted a Kindle since the day they came out. And when Amazon lowered the price to $139, I decided to get one as a consolation gift to myself, after selling our weekend place in northern Michigan. My plan was to buy the Kindle after we closed on the sale of the house. And since we were just weeks away from closing, I was excitedly anticipating my purchase. So I went to Amazon.com to compare the $139 model to the one for $189, which my son had told me was the one he preferred. He said something about WiFi not being the best option for downloading new material while away from home. That’s because I’d have to depend on somebody nearby having a public network that I could use. He told me to get the more expensive 3G model, but I planned on going with the cheaper one. I’d just download from home.

Well, a few days later, my husband brought an Amazon.com box into the house with the mail. I hadn’t been expecting anything, so I figured it was a backorder or something I’d forgotten about. But when I opened the box, I saw another box inside, with “Kindle” printed on it. I slammed the box shut as if I’d seen a ghost and quickly set it aside. My husband asked what was wrong, and I mumbled something about not remembering that I’d ordered that item.

Now this had me concerned. I’d been forgetting names of people when I ran into them in public and momentarily losing a word I wanted to use, but this was different. How could I not know that I’d placed an online order? And what’s next – making phone calls and not remembering? Forgetting where I’m going, or, worse yet, how to get home? I started thinking it was time to see a neurologist. It had to be a brain tumor! In the meantime, I didn’t touch the box again for a few days, intending to return it, in the event the sale of the house fell through.

Then, as I was worrying about my mental health, my son called to ask if I’d received a package from Amazon. It turns out that he’d gotten a promotion at work and decided to buy me the more expensive Kindle as a gift! I was SO surprised and so very touched by his generosity. But I was also uncomfortable about accepting something that cost $189 from my son, even though he could easily afford it. You see, my father pounded it into his children’s heads that we shouldn’t expect or accept anything from anyone. As children, my siblings and I used to try to return the small amounts of money that our grandparents gave us on special occasions. And even though, as an adult, I realize just how ridiculous that was, I still have difficulty accepting gifts, especially substantial ones like this.

But, happily, I’m handling it. And I absolutely love my Kindle! Even more important, though, is my relief at realizing that I’m not losing my mind. At least, not yet!

A neighbor called yesterday to say that her little boy, who’s going on five, was on his way over to bring me a small coconut shell. They had enjoyed coconut-flavored Island Way Sorbet after lunch, and she told her son that I sometimes use coconut shells as toys for my parrots. (Island Way Sorbet is a delicious frozen treat that comes packaged in nature’s own containers.)

When the little guy arrived, I thanked him for the shell, and we talked a while, as he explored the kitchen. Then, as I knew he would, he asked if he could go to the basement, where I keep some of my grown son’s toys for visiting kids to use. He wanted to select a few Matchbox cars to play with at home. Of course, I told him he could. I was busy in the kitchen, so my husband took him downstairs. And when they came back up, my little buddy showed me the three cars that he was taking home. We talked for a few more minutes and said “good-bye” as he walked toward the door.

But just as I turned back to the sink to finish cleaning vegetables, he ran up behind me, put his arms around my waist and hugged me. Naturally, I turned around and hugged him back. I kissed the top of his head and then walked him to the door. I noticed his darling three-year-old sister coming to meet him in the yard and told them that I’d watch them as they walked home. But before they got more than 20 feet away, the boy ran back and called, “Miss Sandy!” And he blew me a kiss. Now if that isn’t enough to melt your heart, I don’t know what is!